Consequences

It's been seven years since I last trained for a marathon, and I've been remembering both the good and the bad. One thing I have loved (again) is the chance to explore. The question "I wonder where this road will take me?" is much easier to answer, and much less consequential, when you are only 4 miles in on a 22-mile run. Those other 18 miles have got to come from somewhere, after all - why not here? And even after seven and a half years of running in Provo (including training for two marathons), it turns out there are still whole worlds in Provo/Orem that I have never laid eyes on. I recently ventured over to the west side of the freeway, the existence of which was entirely theoretical to me three weeks ago. I've been surprised to discover not just farmland and views of Utah Lake, but new housing developments, established neighborhoods, schools, churches, and even a gigantic city park. But there is not a single grocery store, which makes the whole mysteriously populated area feel strange and otherworldly.

The other day I went to re-polish my toenails in anticipation of flip-flop season and discovered (again) one of the downsides of marathon training. My toenails had been painted red-and-flaking for a few weeks, and so it wasn't until I took nail polish remover to my toes that I discovered that one of my nails had turned almost entirely black beneath the red.

Brace yourself. This is the grossest picture I've ever had courage to post on my blog. I even typed "stock photo" into Google Images* and posted the first picture that came up to block this one from appearing first in readers and driving away my audience.

I'm actually kind of self-conscious about my toes in general, and so I feel really brave posting a close-up not just of my toe, but of the grossest version of my toe, although the grossness sort of masks the reality of my toes because I can pawn this one off on running 20 miles. I have heard tales of people losing toenails after running a marathon, and I think (but am not sure) that my brother may have actually experienced this. The idea of losing a toenail really weirds me out, and it's not something I can cover up with nail polish, which is exactly what I did after snapping this picture.

Finish line: four weeks, five days, and twenty hours.


* And then Google distracted me by suggesting I search "stock photo people" instead of just stock photo, and "stock photo people" is a way more entertaining search than "stock photo" alone: